


This Is You

by Hambone



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Crossdressing, Disguise, Disguised as Cisswap, Gang Rape, Homophobia, Humiliation, In Hiding, Internalized cissexism, M/M, Public Sex, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: After having been in hiding for almost a year successfully, Chazz is found out, and at the worst possible time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a conversation I had with a friend. It's not meant to fit into any larger narrative, simply know that Chazz is disguised as a girl so he can attend school while in hiding from his brothers. No, it doesn't make a lot of sense, it's not supposed to. It's also not my best work, but, hey, what can I say! It's all in the name of fun, right?
> 
> Enjoy this morally reprehensible mess!

    “This is you, right?”

    He held the picture up to Chazz’s face, flapping it slightly as if it hadn’t already gotten his attention. Chazz had to glance at it to know it and the wash of panic that hit him as so strong he had to ball his fists until his nails bit his palm to keep steady. 

    “No,” he said, “are you stupid?”

    The small crowd murmured, pressing in tighter. They were outside, under the trees in the back of the main school complex; anyone could hear them. A group of girls passed, chattering softly, so close Chazz was sure they could hear his dry breathing. 

    “I’m a girl.”

    “Yeah,” said one of the other boys, a dirty Yellow, for Pete’s sake, “you sure look like one, but I mean,” he scoffed like he had the right to, “how do we know?”

    “I’ve never thought he looked much like one, look at his legs.”

    “I am-“ Chazz started but they ignored him.

    “Got no tits too.”

    “I don’t know about that.”

    They were getting closer and despite the blue sky above him Chazz felt intensely claustrophobic. 

    “Look,” he snarled, trying to see over the mob of heads to gauge the danger of speaking freely, “what do you want?”

    “Ah,” the one holding the picture laughed, “so he admits it!”

    “I admit nothing!” Chazz snapped, tugging the hem of his long coat around his waist. He should probably just leave, but if they really were sure, if they really were, he could be outed to the Chancellor. He could be sent home. 

    He grounded himself as the wave of nausea that filled him with hit. 

    “You’re a pervert, right?” One of the boys came close and elbowed him in the side, like he was making a cute joke and they were close friends.

    “Living in the girl’s dorm like that. You like to see all them naked? Little guy like you couldn’t get any otherwise?”

    That got some laughs. Chazz didn’t humor them with a response. 

    “Please, he’s clearly a faggot. Right?”

    Chazz glared. 

    “What do you want.”

    They laughed again, pushing one another, whispering, too much at once to understand. it was all some big joke to them, of course, some silly stupid joke that would go away in a while and they’d forget, or just remember him as ‘that kid who faked his way into the girl’s dorm’, because they didn’t know what he’d gone through just to be standing here, just to be accepted into the school in the first place. They didn’t know why he had to lie about his name and his body and his family, because they didn’t know his brothers. And they didn’t know what was going to happen to him if they found him now, after all this, the way he currently was, shamed by this discovery-

    “We don’t want anything, Chazz,” the first one cooed. He flapped the picture around again. “We’re just having a little fun, is all. like you are, getting off to walking around in that short skirt, right?” he grasped at the pleat on Chazz’s side, tugging a little, and Chazz stepped back like he’d been burned. 

    “Don’t play games with me,” he said, his voice low and tight, “everyone wants something.”

    They just smiled. 

    “I get it,” he swallowed, “Money. It’s always money with you,” words jammed in his throat, “peasants. How much do you want then?”

    The boy reached for him again, missed his skirt and took hold of his coat instead, and tugged him forward. 

    “Money’s dirty,” he said, though some voices behind him disagreed. “Money can be traced. Besides, your brothers really aren’t gonna mind paying off your little queer game?”

    More than they knew. He said nothing, fists at his sides. 

    “C’mon, you really think we wanna tell on you? We aren’t that mean.”

    Another tug and he and Chazz were face to face. He could smell the other boy’s lunch on his breath and his lips curled. 

    “We aren’t gonna turn you in. I mean, as long as you’re nice to us in return.”

    Chazz didn’t understand. Of course they wanted money. Everyone wanted money. That was the only reason people had ever taken interest in him. He felt nauseous again. 

    “Yeah,” said someone in his ear, and he realized too late they had crowded around him now, someone was behind him, breathing on him, someone’s hands we playing with the fringe of his coat. 

    “What does that mean!” he snapped, putting out his hands to push the boy with the photo off, but he dropped the picture and grabbed Chazz’s wrist instead, hard, yanking on it, and he ended up only falling back into another hard chest. Fingers poked at his waist. 

    “Ah!” He yelped like a dog. Someone’s hand was on his thigh. 

    “Don’t act dumb.” He wasn’t even sure who said that, someone to his left. “You must have been hoping for this.”

    “Even with this coat,” a hand was trying to pull it from his shoulder, “that skirt covers nothing.”

    “Surprised we didn’t see something before, you know?” a snicker. 

    “What?”

    “Cuz he’s a boy.”

    “Get off!” 

    He jerked hard but the hands didn’t move. There was a short, harsh rip as the seam of his sleeve tore. 

    “Quiet down,” said the first boy, “you don’t want people to hear you, right?” 

    Chazz couldn’t see what people he meant, if any, but his first reaction was yes, he did indeed want people to hear him, he wanted help, now, but then someone whispered

    “Chazz” and he was at a loss again. He was lying, to everyone. If someone heard this argument, found him like this, these boys would spill his secret. He hadn’t given them anything yet, he hadn’t assured a deal. They had nothing to lose and he had everything. It was just a picture they’d printed off the internet, just Chazz Princeton, a boy who looked exactly like him, but that didn’t mean anything. Not until his faked records were checked over, or until the shoddy background he’d put together was given more than a cursory glance by the admissions board. He bit the inside of his cheek. 

    “That’s right,” said the one holding him from behind, “good boy.” Fat fingers stroked his face. They felt greasy. He hoped he wasn’t going to break out after this. 

    The hand on his thigh slid up, grabbed his skirt. 

    “You’re hiding something from us.”

    “D-don’t!” Chazz bit out, “stop it!” 

    “Aw, he’s shy.”

    “Fine, we’ll start up here.”

    The boy behind him hooked his fingers on the loose fabric about his waist, pulling his turtleneck out of where it had been neatly tucked behind his belt. 

    “First base is called that for a reason.”

    “No,” he tried to fumble against them with his one free hand but someone else caught it, pulling it awkwardly behind him. It hurt and he gasped, not meaning to. His shirt was lifted up to his armpits, as high as they could get it. 

    “Shit, look at that.”

    It was only with its exposure that Chazz realized his chest was heaving. He was breathing fast, uneven, oh god, it was obvious how scared he was. He jerked again, not really trying to get anywhere specific because they were everywhere. He felt so hot his ears were ringing, shame burning him alive. 

    “So what! You’re all boys too, y-you’ve seen another boy’s chest before.”

    Nobody was listening. Free hands reached for him, pressing up under his pounding ribcage to cup under his nipples like they were breasts. 

    “Pretty perky for a dude.”

    “Look at how puffy these are.”

    They dug their thumbs into his nipples, making him jump and shout before he could stop himself. He wasn’t admonished for it. 

    “Shy little guys.”

    Swirling his thumbs around the pink plush of Chazz’s areola the boy pressed his nails against the small bud of his inverted nipples, trying to coax them into hardness. 

    “Stop,” Chazz hissed between clenched teeth, “stop it, th-this is…”

    He had to bite his lip to stifle another yell as the thumbs dug in harder, squeezing his eyes shut. 

    “We know what we’re doing,” said the boy with the photograph, and the fingers on his chest turned and, in a quick, practiced motion, took hold of his nipples simultaneously and tugged at them, hard. 

    Chazz’s knees knocked together as he struggled not to drop to the floor, a strangled yowl grinding through his throat like sandpaper. Somebody else’s hand crept around his waist, steadying him. Keeping him pulled uncomfortably forward, the boy rolled his nubs between his forefingers and thumbs, rough and uncaring. The crowd thrummed excitedly. 

    “Damnit, look at that.” 

    “Aw, it’s okay, baby.” Someone must have noticed the way his lips were trembling. He’d hoped so hard that they wouldn’t. 

    “You’re hurting me,” he said pathetically, “idiots.”

    “Aww.”

    “Here.”

    The boy who’d had the photo handed Chazz’s wrist to someone else – he let them take it, terrified. 

    “C’mon, pervert, let’s see.”

    He lifted Chazz's skirt. 

    Being male, Chazz had had to hide himself as best he could, because the Duel Academia issue skirts really were so short, and that generally meant tight and small underwear and dark tights. The skirt bunched up around his waist, his belt still having not been undone, and people laughed. Someone pinched his ass. The heat bubbling up in Chazz’s face boiled over and he dropped his head instinctively as he began to cry. 

    “Don’t,” he moaned lowly, throat scratchy and awfully dry for how wet his face was. 

    “Panties!” someone crowed, “damn!”

    “Please, stop,” he choked on his own spit, “please, I’ll pay you.”

    Thumbs dug into the waistband of his pantyhose, pulling them down and catching his underwear along the way, making him naked everywhere that counted. 

    “He’s excited!” 

    Unable to take it, Chazz lashed out, kicking upward with one leg into the gut of the boy in front of him, which was hard because his tights were barely down his thighs, writhing in the tight holds on him. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, but he didn't have to take this, he wasn’t weak, he had gotten here all on his own and he wasn’t going to be their puppet. 

    “Fuck!” 

    A hand twisted into his hair and yanked his head back. They pulled on his chest again, hard. He felt the tear on his coat sleeve widen horribly. 

    “Do you want us to call you out? Do you want us to fucking call Chancellor Sheppard?”

    He wanted them to stop. He bit himself again, tasting blood, and the boy at his feet grabbed his flailing legs and held them apart. 

    “Probably gets off on the idea!”

    “I hear that’s true. These guys, these fags wanna be caught. They like getting beat.”

    “Shit.”

    Fingers slipped between his ass cheeks. 

    “Bet you’ve taken lots of dick like this, huh?”

    “No!”

    He didn’t even know why he was answering. He wasn’t like that. He was only here in these clothes because-

    “Shut up, idiot!” his head was pulled back again, too far back, his throat stretching and aching. The tip of a finger pressed against his asshole, teasing him, making fun, and no matter how hard he pushed and shook the pressure remained. The hands on his chest were squeezing the meager fat and muscle he had there, as if trying to shape his flesh into passable tits. Someone was running fingers down his spine and it tickled, awfully, sickeningly. The finger on his ass rubbed small concentric circles, just barely pressing hard enough to be truly frightening. 

    “No,” he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, even with the threat of exposure, “no, no, no.”

    One of his hands, the one pulled behind his back, touched something hot and fleshy. 

    “Yeah,” came a breath in his ear, and the hand keeping him captive closed his fingers around it. It was wet, sweaty; he could feel the other boy’s pubes against the side of his hand. He couldn’t do this. 

    “Nice!” 

    “Let me.”

    They pulled at his clothes in all directions, his other hand being forcibly guided to the side, where someone else was unzipping his trousers. Chazz’s nose was clogged with snot as he sobbed silently and he had to open his mouth to breathe, but it was like breathing through a wet fog, so heavy and hard. He thought he might faint. He hoped he would. His ears rung so loud he was half deaf. 

    “Come on.”

    The tip of the finger on his ass slid inside. And then kept pushing, and pushing. It was dry and rough and he moaned in horror. 

    “Wow.”

    “Hope you’re clean.”

    Maybe he did really look like a girl like this, with his chest raw and pink, nipples pert beneath some boy’s dark hands. He had always been thin, too thin, because there was never enough time for him to indulge in business and pleasure, so the bones of his hips angled out sharply from his waist and with the way they had his ass pulled back curved him into a feminine figure. He knew he should have taken better care, that they wouldn’t have taken interest in him if he’d looked like a proper boy should, like Slade always told him to. The boy at his back spit on his hand and stuck another finger inside. 

    “He’s fucking tight.”

    They thrust in to the knuckle, twisting. Chazz felt like he was burning inside. 

    “Everyone’s ass is tight.”

    “Dunno about that.”

    Laughing, they just kept laughing. 

    “We’ll loosen him up.”

    The cocks in his hands jumped. He shook his head but couldn’t say a thing through the ball of shame in his throat. 

    “Fuck.”

    Twisting inside him, the fingers scissored, spreading him open. People whistled. Chazz hunched forward, away from them, but he moved his arms as he was prompted, squeezed the dicks he was fisting. He couldn’t get away, but he could get through, maybe, if he tried. It was hard to focus. 

    “That’s right,” his hair was pet like a dog, “that’s good.”

    “He’s getting into it!” 

    “Obviously.” 

    “It’s what he wanted all along.”

    Chazz bowed his head lower, wheezing. They stuck another finger inside him. 

    “It hurts,” he begged, but he might not have said it out loud because no one responded. Another zipper was being undone. 

    “Ha,” said the first boy, the one who’d shoved the photograph in his face like a policeman’s badge, “I bet you really don’t want people to know who you are now, huh?” 

    The boy on his left came in his hand, hot cum spurting out across his jacket and his bare side. Chazz jolted, gagging. 

    “You’re a fucking mess,” he continued, “you know that? How you ever got in here I’ll never get.”

    They started maneuvering him again, pushing him down with a firm palm on his back even as they continued fingering him. His knees gave out easily and he dropped like a rock, crying out as the hands on him were jostled painfully. 

    “Hurry up!”

    People were looking around. Chazz wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, ten minutes, forty five, but classes might be changing soon, and people would crowd the area, and even if they were off behind some trees nothing here was private. He smelled like cock now, it wasn’t going to be easy to hide. Just as he was thinking that, the dick in his other hand discharged all over the side of his face. 

    “Ah!”

    It felt almost cold against his red cheek, mixing with his tears and dribbling into his mouth. He wanted to shut it but he couldn’t stop panting, it was so hard to breathe. 

    “Good!”

    “Fuck.”

    The boy who had had the picture pulled his dick out, purple and ugly, and shoved it at Chazz’s open mouth. He tried to turn his head away, already shamed enough, but the fingers in his hair tightened again. 

    “That’s enough!” he choked out, “that’s enough!”

    “Please,” laughed the kid, and he smeared his dick against the cum already splattered on Chazz’s face, catching his front teeth as he gasped for air. 

    “You bite and it’s all over for you, Princeton.”

    Chazz could barely get his mouth open wide enough, already feeling faint at the smell of it, and part of him could only focus on doing what he was told because god, things would only be worse if he was outed now. If his brothers knew he was here, on his knees like this, he would be better off dead. He’d suffered shame before, right? He let the boy’s cock slip between his lips. 

    His ass burned, three fingers still tight and entirely too dry curling around inside. His hips were hitching with each thrust, unsure if he wanted to keep fruitlessly pulling away or not, unsure where he could even pull to. The boy in front took his time letting Chazz swallow his dick, probably enjoying how he trembled as he fought his instinct to puke. His awkwardly long lashes were glued together by tears, but Chazz managed to peer up between them at the face of his tormentor, blurred and twisted and red. His lips were chapped from crying already and they felt like they might split at the corners when his cock reached the back of his tongue. Hands already being pulled away to find other fat little dicks to be forced upon, he had nothing with which to support himself, no safe haven to lean into. He might have skinned a knee when he fell. 

    “I’m gonna fuck his ass.”

    The boy in front of him had just started pulling out of his mouth when he heard this, so Chazz almost had the opportunity to pull back and yell, even against his better judgement, but then hips were slammed back against his face so hard he was forced to deepthroat it, and he did puke then, almost, trapped in his throat by a fat cock head until he managed to swallow his bile. Chazz tried to dig his fingernails into any flesh he could find but they weren’t having any of it, prepared, slapping at his pale fingers as he squirmed. 

    They pulled his hips back, all of them, a team effort to watch him be humiliated. Finally the fingers were removed, but there was no relief; hands that had to have been from several different sources were grabbing his buttocks, spreading them, taking a look like this was something anyone would want to see and not something disgusting and evil. The boy behind him was hawking into his hand, Chazz could hear the slick sounds of him stroking his cock with his saliva and would have retched again if he wasn’t trying so hard not to pass out now that his airways were both blocked. He was almost thankful he had vomited as the flavor masked any natural one from his rapist’s dick, his own flavor, his own fluid, not the ones being forced inside him. It was a sick thing to think but he was sick, here on the floor like this. He had the right to it. 

    It’s said that things you cannot see are often perceived to be larger than life. That was certainly true because when the head of a cock pressed against his ass Chazz felt as though it was going to kill him. Inside himself he had already given up, was already used to being at the mercy of other’s power, but an indignity lived as well, that this was how he would be killed, by some loser’s cock in the trees behind his school building in a miniskirt. It was not with true anger that he felt this but with an underwhelmingly calm annoyance, as though he was realizing he had worn through a pair of socks. It was ridiculous that he, Charles Princeton, was going to be found dead like this, that these boys were going to go on trial for his murder. 

    Then he was screaming around the dick in his mouth because when it pushed inside it hurt like hell and even he, who had endured so much pain before, could not possibly have been prepared for a wound so intimate. His body coiled tight and the boy inside him let out a heavy groan, spreading him and spreading him until their hips met. Taking advantage of his loss of control, the boy in his mouth was fisting his hair, thrusting in faster and harder as his jaw was stretched open by his own wails, pulling the skin on his forehead back and wringing more tears from his eyes. 

    “Sh-!”

    “He I-!”

    “Fu-!”

    “I’m-!”

    He couldn’t hear over the sound of his own flesh being pulled apart, the slam of bodies against his own. Hands were sliding over his thighs, his stomach, his throat, faces burned into his mind so harshly that even closing his eyes didn’t shield him from their mockery.   
Someone else came on his shoulder. Chazz wasn’t even sure if it was his doing, if he had been jerking him off or if the boy had just satisfied himself. He couldn’t feel his hands, the way they were being moved for him, like he wasn’t within his own body, simply trapped by the sensations and not the physicality of it. The boy in front slammed inside him so hard he felt like his teeth would come out. 

    There was a part of him that felt he should be able to remove himself from this. He had heard that in experiences of extreme trauma many people were able to disassociate from their bodies, to leave that pain behind and look down upon themselves and not feel it. But this was not like that at all – every thrust inside of him from either direction hurt so badly that no matter where his mind tried to travel he was always drawn back. He could feel the stretch of his skin so vividly, how painfully dry he was and how it made him cling to this boy’s cock with each outward movement. 

    And then it was horribly, terrifyingly wet and hot, and he thought he had been split inside, this was his blood, he was going to die now, but then the boy pulled out and he realized it was cum inside him. 

    This boy had cum inside him. 

    Chazz snapped. His hands shot out in front of him, gripping the naked thighs of the boy fucking his mouth, and he raked his nails down as hard as he could, ripping his head backwards. The boy shouted but Chazz was free, knocked back into another pair of thighs behind him but unfettered by hands on his body. 

    “Get away from me!”

    His voice was so raw it was barely intelligible but he kept screaming, and screaming, hoarse and quiet but with all his strength behind it, and lashing out with his hands and his shoulders and trying to pull his legs out from under himself. Boys stepped back, trying to get out of his way, hushing him frantically. Someone kicked him in the back and he threw himself at them with such force that his head collided with their thigh and his vision sputtered black for a second. 

    “Shit. Shit!”

    They were scared now. They were scattering. Chazz gripped dirt in his hands and kicked his legs out, catching someone’s shin, his tights tearing down the middle but he didn’t care. 

    “Fuck. Princeton-!”

    “Don’t you dare threaten me!” 

    He lashed out blindly. 

    “How dare you! How dare you!”

    “Hey!” Some newcomer’s voice, clearly, because everyone looked away from Chazz and over at the school.

    “Fuck!”

    And the remaining boys bolted. Chazz sat there staring blindly down at his own boots, breathing. There was something crumpled on the ground by his hand, and though he felt he could not move without some sudden violence returning upon him he found his fingers inching towards it, flattening out the curves. His own face, blank and schooled as Jagger laid a hand on his shoulder, stared back at him. It was the photograph they’d printed out of him. He remembered the day it was taken – he’d had to wear that green tie he always hated. 

    “Who's back here?”

    He looked up as Jaden rounded the bushes. Torn, half undressed, and covered in jism, Chazz stared up at the only person he had ever called a friend and wished harder than he had during the whole ordeal that he was dead. Jaden was staring at him, his mouth slightly open, expression oddly empty, as though he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. He licked his lips. 

    “Chazz…? Who-“

    Chazz closed his eyes, opening his mouth to say something smart, something witty and standoffish to show Jaden exactly how much this wasn’t his business, how much the he that had up until this moment been a she to his friend could take care of himself, and threw up into his own lap.

 

 

 

 


End file.
